


cool, cool hands when the fever hit

by thespianhowell



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 09:55:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7930261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thespianhowell/pseuds/thespianhowell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i> a day in the life of AnIllPhil and danisnotanursemaid.</i><br/>(on the humorous and a little crack-y side)</p>
            </blockquote>





	cool, cool hands when the fever hit

**Author's Note:**

> beta'd by the glorious [fizz!](http://phanwich.tumblr.com/) honestly praise bless love u <3.  
> dedicated to my one true love [alexandra](http://philslesters.tumblr.com/) due to her love of phil suffering and cuddles.
> 
> no-one seems to know for certain when they arrived home and i am not the kind of guy who is going to be bothered to work it out so just consider any timing inaccuracy artistic license.
> 
> title from ["middle of the hill"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d1kfwC72Ps0) by josh pyke

Dan doesn't like editing in bed. He normally has a strict ‘do not edit in bed’ policy. Firstly, if he's at home it was always easier to edit on the iMac with its actual mouse rather than the dreadful trackpad of a laptop, and its giant screen. Secondly, it feels like failing to keep work as work. If he's to be entirely honest with himself, his work was barely work in the first place and he really should keep up some boundaries so he didn’t go and derail the distinction between work and entertainment entirely. But there is editing to be done, and it was beginning to look like he may have to edit in bed, because it seems that Phil is never going to free his right side, and Dan cannot do nothing forever. He’s already been awake and mostly unmoving for a half-hour, and this position has stopped being charming and comfortable. There’s a Phil head tucked into the crook of his neck, a Phil arm curled around his middle, and a Phil tummy crushing and numbing his right hand. Dan tries to move said hand before he loses it entirely with little success.

He’s considering the pros and cons of amputation when Phil sniffles and lets out the depressed moan of an ill man waking and being reminded of his situation after the relief of sleep. Phil starts to shuffle around a little, just enough for Dan to pull his dying, shrivelled hand free. He can feel Phil’s mouth curling into a small smile where it’s pressed into his collarbone. It’s less romantic than it sounds, mostly just because Dan’s still quite uncomfortable and kind of needs to pee. Also, Phil is generally a little bit cold and clammy, and that is not a highly sought after trait in a bedmate.

“Hello.” Phil says. His lips graze Dan’s skin. That part’s not so bad. The rest of his complaints still stand. “You’re warm.” Dan can hear the early-morning fondness laced into Phil’s tone. Then, a cough wracks his body and apparently wakes his brain up enough to reconsider. He pulls his head away from Dan’s shoulder and frees up Dan’s side just a tad as he buries further down under their bedclothes. He still succeeds in being squashed almost entirely against Dan’s side when he demands, “go make me coffee, fucker.”

Dan snorts and shoves him in the stomach, earning a loud groan and a squeeze where Phil is still latched onto him. He sighs, lamenting all of the life choices he made up to this moment that lead to him being kicked out of his own bed when he’s still jetlagged by an ungrateful lump of sick Phil, but sits up nonetheless.

“Fuck off, you could say ‘please’.” He points out, trying to pull Phil’s hand away from his waist. Phil’s hand has other ideas, which is really sending some mixed signals about what exactly Phil wants.

“ _Please_ go make me coffee, fucker." Phil amends with a sniffle, finally freeing Dan from his grubby illness paws.

“Remember when we first met and you called me nice things like 'Bear' and 'love' and, you know, my name. And not just cruel names and curse words.” Dan says mournfully as he exits the bed. Phil, the bastard, grabs the elastic of his boxers as Dan moves just to snap it back painfully when Dan stands. Dan leaps four feet into the air as Phil cackles, his broken throat altering the sound to something breathless and wheezy.

“Nice ass.” Phil clearly thinks he’s clever. Dan disagrees.

“I should have left you in the outback.”

 

***

 

Dan returns with coffee, toast, cereal and medication. He would maybe have tried harder, maybe even made some bacon or something, if he wasn’t also jetlagged and exhausted. And, of course, if Phil hadn’t been so completely heartless and cruel earlier.

In Dan’s absence, Phil has gravitated towards the warmer section of the bed left by Dan’s body. He runs warmer than Phil does in full health, so naturally he’d be warmer than an Ill Phil. However, he’s not feeling particularly sympathetic about this, because there’s not much room left for him in the bed. His bed. Because it’s full of starfished-out Phil.

“You’re selfish and ungrateful.” Dan complains, setting down the tray on his own bedside table. After all, Phil’s closer to that side now. Phil sits up, beaming.

“Sweet life nectar.” he says, reaching for his coffee with one hand and his cough medicine with the other. “Thanks, Dan.”

Dan finds it hard to continue to be faux-irritable when Phil turns the smile towards him.

 

***

 

When Dan returns from putting their breakfast dishes in the dishwasher, he makes Phil sit forward in the bed so he can slide in behind him. Phil’s broader than Dan, he doesn’t fit into the v of his legs or the span of his shoulders very well. He gets away with being the little spoon lying down, but this doesn’t work perfectly. But Dan’s mostly there to rub Phil’s shoulders and back, because he is far too good and Phil does not deserve him, so the tetris of their limbs isn’t too important.

“Oh, oh yeah. There’s good.” Phil says as Dan presses between his shoulderblades.

“I really feel like that’s an unnecessarily sexual way to express your gratitude.”

Phil laughs until he coughs. Dan takes pity on him and kisses his shoulder.

 

***

 

Dan tries to get up to go and be responsible at last and finish editing on the iMac. Phil has admitted to his stiff back feeling better and concedes that the cold medication is working a little bit. So Dan feels like he’s allowed to pause his nursemaid duties. He extricates himself from his massage position, but as soon as his feet hit the floor, Phil grabs his arm and pulls him back onto the bed. Dan collapses backwards and misses hitting Phil’s head with his own by mere centimetres.

“That was dramatic.” Dan says. Phil laughs.

“Come back.” Dan may have been able to resist, puppy eyes and all, if Phil’s voice hadn’t cracked and disappeared into nothingness at the end. Instead, he settles into bed next to Phil and considers the perk that is not having to move files around to a different computer from when he was editing on the plane. 

 

He finds himself still in bed a half hour later, sitting up, cross-legged, with his laptop in front of his feet and a dramatic hunch in his back, and Phil’s head using his right thigh as a pillow. If Dan’s using his free hand to play with Phil’s hair, that is his business, thank you very much. It’s not a position that can remain comfortable for too long, but he’s a good person and he makes sacrifices for Phil.

When trying to stretch out his poor, giant, cramped legs a little, Dan apparently jostles Phil, because Phil lets out what may have been a dramatic groan if his throat wasn’t under severe stress. As it is, it sounds more like a brief whimper before cutting out entirely.

“Fuck you and your Comic Sans.” Phil says. Dan prods his side, producing another pathetic illness whimper.

“You’re not even conscious, shut the fuck up.” Phil reaches a weak hand over to shove the laptop away from Dan’s hands. Dan immediately pulls it back.

“‘Non-combustible Daniel’ is the only good joke you’ve ever made.” Phil says matter-of-factly. Dan gasps. “Surrender your career and come down here.”

“That’s so rude.” Dan replies, his tone wounded.

“The truth hurts.”

“I could delete your entire channel right now.” Dan goes to Youtube in a new tab for emphasis. Phil is unbothered.

“Delete yours while you’re at it and come embrace me.” Dan seizes the duvet and pulls it up over Phil’s complaining head. Phil flails half-heartedly.

“Rest in peace AmazingPhil.” Dan says, returning to editing and ignoring Phil as he tries to free his head.

“I would if you weren’t tapping away.” Phil says when his mouth is finally back above the duvet. Dan clicks even more dramatically.  


 

***

 

Dan pokes his head back into the bedroom. Phil is watching Youtube videos on Dan’s laptop, because Dan was selfless enough to leave it behind.

“Lunch.” he announces.

“Are you delivering it to me?” Phil’s tone would sound weak and hopeful to anyone less familiar with Phil’s ways. But Dan knows the truth; he knows that this is all part of Phil’s sneaky agenda to make Dan perform tasks for him.

“You’re not that ill, you little shit.” Dan says, unimpressed. It’s very important that he lets Phil know that he’s wise to these tricks.

“Here I am, dying, of the plague, and you won’t even bring me food.” Phil gives a put-upon sigh and flops sideways on the bed. Dan walks over, mostly planning to save his laptop from Phil’s dramatics, but also to check Phil’s temperature.

“You’re an idiot.” Dan is disgusted with himself when it comes out fond. He places his hand to Phil’s forehead briefly. He’s warm, but it doesn’t seem too bad. Though, in fairness, Dan knows about as much about medicine as a three-year-old, or maybe a blind alleycat.

“No, give that back.” Phil protests.

“What, my hand?” Dan asks, when no sensible explanation is forthcoming.

“Your hand is cool and my brain is on fire.” Phil says this as though it’s not exaggerating, so Dan obliges. He does not, however, budge on his stance against bringing Phil his lunch in bed.

“Come and get some food and I’ll sit you in front of a fan and give you more drugs.”

“You’re the worst illness slave.”

 

***

 

Dan’s channel surfing in his sofa crease, with Phil lying along the couch next to him, head pressed to Dan’s thigh and arms curling around it like he would a pillow. He’s pretending this is a well-earned break from being productive. The reality of the situation is just that Phil was making longing faces at him again when he said he was going to go and finally put the finishing touches on that video. He wanted to upload it instead of doing a liveshow, after all. Phil, apparently, didn’t see this as particularly pressing (likely), or had more faith in Dan’s ability to edit quickly than Dan did (very unlikely). Either way, that video would probably wind up later than planned, and then Dan could blame Phil for it and use it as leverage to not make him more food tomorrow.

“You’re very squishy.” Phil mumbles into Dan’s thigh. Only years of training allow Dan to decode it.

“Gee thanks.” Dan retorts, changing the channel again.

“It’s a compliment and you know it. Comfortable.” Phil nuzzles his thigh. Dan wonders idly if his trackpants feel nice on Phil’s nose. “Going back to bed would be more comfortable.”

“We literally do not need to go back to bed.” It sounds appealing, but he’ll just continue to slide further into unproductivity. Which is probably Phil’s plan anyway, the snake.

“Love you.” Phil says, apropos of nothing, quiet but clear. Dan knows what it means, what Phil’s tone and the slight tightening of his grip means. The idiot is apologising for being a dramatic sick person, as though Dan isn’t used to it by this point, as though Dan minds as much as he pretends to.

“I love you too.” Which partly means ‘it’s fine’, partly means ‘just get better’, but mostly means exactly what it says on the tin.

**Author's Note:**

> rebloggable on tumblr [here!](http://thespianhowell.tumblr.com/post/149795098261/cool-cool-hands-when-the-fever-hit)


End file.
